


Blackberry Bush

by Felinis



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Blackberries, Character Study, Gen, kind of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 06:31:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15042824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felinis/pseuds/Felinis
Summary: Estelle enjoys picking from a blackberry bush





	Blackberry Bush

**Author's Note:**

> Hi... I wrote this because even though it's summer break my home life is stressing me the fuck out and I was having a panic attack as I was writing. Enjoy some fluff

They’re little black bundles of jewels that pop in the mouth with a delicate sweetness that brought comfort to her in a way that seemed preordained. Maybe because blackberries were like jewels and princess should always hold jewels was the reason they brought Estelle joy? Or it could simply be the flavor that brought her a small bit of happiness. It could be a lot of things.

All the same, there was nothing like the taste of a wild blackberry.

They had stopped on the road while traveling in between Capua Nor and Halure when they had stopped near a large cluster of heavy bushes and trees. She hadn’t expected to see any blackberries while on the road but the surprise was always pleasant. Estelle ran to the bush excitedly pulling out the ripest of berries with a keen eye and digging around for the ones that hid out of sight waiting to be seen.

The joy of blackberry picking was always finding the gems hidden behind the thorns and deep in the thicket. It was a silly thought but sometimes she thinks that blackberries choose when they want to be seen and that finding one was a gift from the bush.

It was a childish superstition that she had since she was little that she couldn’t shake. Growing up there’d been a masterfully pruned blackberry bush as well as a large number of other fruit-bearing plants in the palace garden. Not an orchard but a small amount of everything so that the there was never a shortage of fruit that was especially fresh for the table. For royalty. For Estelle and her alone in reality.

One of the things about that part of the garden was that she was not supposed to play there especially as it was not fitting for her station, but when her mom had still been alive she’d take Estelle into the garden to pluck blackberries straight from the bush saying that they tasted best that way. They did, of course, taste much better than when they were on a plate or served with breakfast but she had to take them in secret when she started craving. The Council members and other nobles would scold her when caught and tell Estelle a real lady does not pick her own fruit.

It never truly dissuaded her from sneaking in so instead the gardeners were told to ravage the bushes from anything the princess could pick herself. As soon as the berries and fruits around her turned ripe enough they were pulled and torn from the plants leaving them bear and empty.

At least, not always. Sometimes she would find a strawberry that was overripe hidden underneath the leaves that wasn’t the bright and glimmering shine of ruby and more an old garnet that was clouded and misty. Estelle liked these ones more. They would be warm from the sun and sweeter than anything the perfect ones could provide. If she crawled into the blackberry bush there would always the ones so small nobody would ever bother with waiting and sometimes a whole one hidden for her. There was always at least one apple that fell which would be left to rot for her to bite into. A jasmine flower she could suck the nectar from when the season came. Cherries that were overlooked on the branches from being too high. Grapes that were too young for anyone to consider grabbing.

Estelle liked what was not perfect and raw with the taste of the wild more than anything in the palace. More than any of the food that was imported from somewhere far away. More than the food that was always made with the idea of a perfect taste.

That the spices must be so because that was how they should be. That the table must be set always in a certain way. That snacks and treats must be on a tray brought by the maid. That her hands must be clean and her clothes not disheveled from sitting where she must not in the garden.

The rules never stopped Estelle. Instead, she fought silently around them by making sure nobody was looking or by always being quick with her hands. If caught she’d feign ignorance just the slightest and apologize but she never grew tired of her garden escapades.

She handed out the berries she found that day out to everyone with a smile. Karol pointed out how her white clothes were going to have stains from the juices and Estelle giggled at her own forgetfulness. Her hands were well covered in blackberry juice and she’d mindlessly been grabbing her skirt to better sit on the ground. Estelle plopped a berry in her mouth and enjoyed the taste as the group sat happily enjoying the treat.

Offhandedly, Yuri mentioned how growing up he never really had blackberries or any fruit other than apples or sometimes a pear. Fruit like this spoiled too quickly for anyone but upper middle class to really afford often compared to things that stayed good longer or that tended to grow in abundance. Things like salad were a rare treat alongside steaks or cake which a new fact to Estelle’s ears. Karol mentioned something along a similar line but not as bad from the sound of it compared to Yuri.

Estelle would forget what luxuries she had were in fact luxuries at times and moments like this reminded her. She had grown up eating expensive meals and always well fed and warm yet if she were to admit she preferred it when fruit had a hint of the taste of dust from the ground. That she enjoyed the feeling that she’d hunted for something that was in only growing in the gardens and not in the wild.

She liked it when they traveled on foot and their feet were sore from walking all day. She reveled in sleeping under the stars on the hard ground. Estelle loved what many would tell her were commoner things now that she was free. They’d note that people like Yuri and Karol or sometimes Rita were influences that had corrupted their princess.

That they somehow made her wild.

Which was laughable.

Estelle was always somewhat wild but more importantly, she was always infatuated with the idea. She always wanted to find wild blackberries hidden in the bushes. And she always wanted to be free to not think of silly things like a dirty dress.

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to Patreon Patron Kiki Goodell  
> feel free to follow me at  
> felinisfeloney on tumblr where I talk tales and post art


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